


Knowing

by friendofspiderman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), F/M, Gen, Light Angst, Love, May Parker is an Amazing Mom, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Miscommunication, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27786250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendofspiderman/pseuds/friendofspiderman
Summary: It’s theknowingthat MJ delights in. She gladly soaks in the knowledge of Peter’s favorites and least favorites, likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures. Relishes the joy of getting past that nervous, awkward tension that defined the first few months of their relationship, finally landing on the new, comfortable sensation of being truly close to someone.But tonight, when he comes through the window of his bedroom, there’s an immediate distance. His one-word greeting holds no enthusiasm; his smile doesn’t reach his eyes; his embrace is weak.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & May Parker (Spider-Man), Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 28
Kudos: 79





	Knowing

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thank you to the lovely Jsscshvlr (i-lovethatforme on Tumblr) for proofreading this and encouraging me and being an all-around beautiful soul! <3

She’s never seen Peter like this before.

MJ is at his apartment, ready for a night of Netflix and popcorn when he returns from patrol. It’s their seven-month anniversary, and she’s stocked the freezer with a box of ice cream sandwiches she knows are his favorite.

It’s the _knowing_ that MJ delights in. She gladly soaks in the knowledge of Peter’s favorites and least favorites, likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures. Relishes the joy of getting past that nervous, awkward tension that defined the first few months of their relationship, finally landing on the new, comfortable sensation of being truly close to someone.

But tonight, when he comes through the window of his bedroom, there’s an immediate distance. His one-word greeting holds no enthusiasm; his smile doesn’t reach his eyes; his embrace is weak.

MJ’s scared.

She asks him if he’s alright; if anything happened on patrol. He says he’s fine, that she shouldn’t worry about it. They sit on the couch, MJ taking in his rigid posture and wearied stare.

Ten minutes into Stranger Things, Peter looks stressed and all but runs to the bathroom. MJ sits alone, giving him space as she collects her thoughts.

The multiple times she’s helped patch him up after rough scrapes run through her memory, and she scans the data for a solution to the current situation. She comes up with nothing.

This is new. The heaviness in his demeanor is new. The silence is new. Whatever’s wrong sits much deeper than external injuries; there’s a brokenness MJ can’t physically see.

She doesn’t know how to fix that.

She checks the news and finds an article about Spider-Man pulling a family out of a crashed vehicle. He saved a mother, a father, a four-year-old, and a baby—but the two year old, crushed by the impact of a truck, was gone by the time he reached her.

MJ’s stomach drops, and she wishes May wasn’t out of town for the night. She has no idea how to approach this. What do you say to your boyfriend after he’s just pulled a dead toddler out from wreckage? There can’t be words for such a nightmare.

Peter emerges from the bathroom as she’s just left the couch, seconds away from going to check on him.

“Hey,” she says softly, “are you okay?” She takes a step toward him with her arms out, but he backs away. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” He sits back on the couch.

MJ silently debates pressing further. He looks at her expectantly, then at the remote.

His eyes are empty.

“We don’t have to do this tonight.” She gestures to the screen. “Do you want to talk instead?”

He shifts and looks down. “Talk about what?”

She inhales. “I saw the news.” She watches him closely. He doesn’t move, doesn’t react. “I’m so—” she swallows—“I’m so sorry, Peter. Is there anything—”

His head whips up, but he’s looking straight ahead, not at her. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just need some time.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

This is wholly unfamiliar. Every atom of his body language indicates he’s purposefully closed-off. Usually, after a rough patrol, he moves in for a hug. For comfort.

Tonight, she’s scared physical touch will break him.

MJ wills herself to use her words. To figure this out. 

“So should we save date night for another time, or…” 

He’s staring blankly at the TV. “Yeah…yeah, I guess we should.”

It makes sense. MJ likes to be alone with her thoughts when something traumatic happens in her own life. In this moment, it looks like Peter’s the same way.

“Okay,” she says, looking for confirmation, “I can go home, then. Let you have some alone time to recover?”

He finally looks at her. Searchingly. Then he blinks one-too-many times and nods. “Yeah, that would be good. Definitely.”

She doesn’t leave without tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder and kissing his temple, because it doesn’t feel right to do _nothing_. He doesn’t respond; impressively and terrifyingly stoic.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Peter only nods.

\---

Two nights later, MJ lets herself into the Parkers’ apartment a little after seven. It’s the weekend, and she and Peter have scheduled another attempt at date night. 

She’s spent the past two days feeling sick over leaving Peter alone during a crisis. A growing part of her wonders whether she’d convinced herself that giving him space was the most loving option because sitting with a shell-shocked seventeen-year-old was emotionally draining.

She loves Peter—God, she loves him. But it’s the _lack_ of knowing what he needs that makes her truly question, for the first time, whether she’s cut out for this superhero’s girlfriend gig.

MJ pockets her key and hesitantly heads to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She feels more like a stranger to the apartment that’s been a second home for months now than she has since the start of the relationship.

She jumps slightly as the front door opens and May steps inside.

“MJ!” She says brightly. “Hi, sweetheart.” She throws her purse onto the table and hangs her coat on the rack. “I hope Peter told you he’s not coming back until closer to eight.”

“He did.” MJ takes a sip of her water. “I’m actually here early on purpose, I—I wanted to talk to _you_ , if that’s cool.”

“Of course,” May smiles, “I would love to talk. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

MJ heads into the living room and sits on the couch, setting her glass on the coffee table with inexplicably shaky hands. She and May have become relatively close in the past few months, mostly bonding over their link to the super-spider. MJ can talk with her own mom about most things, but any Spider-Man-related topics are best discussed—are _only_ discussed—with Peter’s.

But this isn’t a typical Spider-Man conversation. This will require an emotional vulnerability MJ hasn’t yet shared with May.

“I can put on some hot water for us, MJ,” May says from the kitchen, “sipping tea and waiting for our guy to make it back from Spider-Man-ing in one piece is becoming our brand, isn’t it?”

She laughs lightly, but something about the joke triggers Peter’s pale, hollow face in MJ’s mind, and she can’t respond. She grabs for her water blindly and doesn’t register that May’s sitting on the couch next to her until her trembling hands have placed the glass crookedly back on the coaster.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“How do you do this?” May’s quizzical expression in her periphery suggests she’ll have to be more specific. “Sorry, I mean how do you…how do you deal with Spider-Man? How do you support Peter when superhero stuff just—messes him up?”

May half-smiles. “To be honest, MJ, I don’t really know. I try my best to be there when he needs me, I guess. I’m not perfect at it, probably never will be, but I just try to make myself available, you know?”

MJ nods, feeling strangely disappointed as her subconscious unveils its desire for a step-by-step walk-through she can apply the next time Peter’s hurting. She knows that’s unrealistic.

“That wasn’t great advice, huh?” May looks apologetic. “I wish there was a more simple answer, but as you know, Peter’s world is anything but simple.” May curls one leg under herself and faces MJ more directly. “But I do know that he feels your support, MJ. He tells me all the time that you’re an amazingly understanding girlfriend. I know he appreciates you being there for him.”

The confidence of May’s words—that she _knows_ Peter feels supported—should be reassuring. But it’s not. The unmerited praise makes MJ’s throat feel thick.

“I don’t know how to be there, though. I really screwed up the other night.”

“The other night when—oh.” May’s face floods with understanding. “The car accident thing?”

MJ nods, her head down. “I was terrible. He wasn’t talking, wasn’t moving, he was—he was so _broken_ , and I got scared. He needed someone and I just…left.”

May doesn’t offer up the lies MJ both dreads and craves: she doesn’t say that MJ was justified, that leaving Peter was a perfectly reasonable thing to do, that she made the right call under the circumstances. She just offers a sympathetic smile.

“I didn’t know what to do,” MJ continues, “I was scared to touch him, he looked so…I don’t know, I—I guess I don’t know him as well as I thought I did.” She looks up from her lap to meet May’s eyes. “What do _you_ do when he’s just, like—completely tense and closed-off? When he looks like he’s just seen hell?”

“It…varies.” May says, resting her arm on the back of the couch and resting her head in her hand. “He doesn’t always want to talk—at least not immediately after the fact. So I try not to press him. Most of the time he just needs a hug or a shoulder to rest on. Sometimes we just sit there. Sometimes we do something low-key, like a puzzle or baking. And then every once and a while, he holes himself up in his room completely. I let him, but I also let him know I’m available if he _does_ need to come out and vent a bit.”

The pattern in May’s examples confirms MJ’s fears, and her hearts aches with remorse. She’d been so, so wrong.

“I should have stayed.” Her voice is so quiet and shaky, she almost wonders if May even heard her. But May moves closer and places a tentative arm around MJ’s shoulders, pulling her tighter as the motion causes her to blink back tears. 

“MJ, honey—please don’t beat yourself up about this. The only reason I know how to help Peter cope is because I’ve raised him, okay? It’s not like he’d ever tell us exactly what he needs—believe me, I’ve asked, but his stupid self-sacrificing nature won’t allow it.”

MJ nods and wrings her hands. She squashes a desire to tell May that Peter had _told_ her to leave, that his selflessness was one reason she’d made the decision she did—it feels too much like she’d be excusing herself. She doesn’t deserve to be excused. 

May squeezes her shoulder. “Sweetheart, you don’t always have to do the exact right thing to be a good support. Push that guilt you’re feeling aside, okay?”

“I’m not…I mean, I don’t feel—”

“MJ,” May interrupts gently, “I raised the most guilt-ridden child on the planet. I know a guilty pause when I see one. But don’t fall into that trap. The fact that you’re asking me all of this proves how much you love him.”

MJ takes a moment to collect herself, wiping a few tears away and sitting up straighter. She marvels at May’s tenacity and she’s jealous of it, ashamed she feels burnt out after just one incident.

“And what do you do for—God, May, this is going to sound so selfish, but—when something like the other night happens, what do you do for _you_?”

May nods knowingly. “How do _you_ cope with Peter’s Spider-Man life?”

“Yeah.” MJ admits, a little embarrassed.

May holds MJ’s restless hands gently and looks in her eyes. “ _You come to me_.” She tightens her hold. “You got that, MJ? You can come to me with this stuff anytime. You are _not_ alone in this, okay?”

“Okay.” MJ says. “I will.” And she’s surprised to find she means it sincerely. “Thank you, May.”

“Of course.” May gives her one last squeeze before standing up and heading to the kitchen. “Now, how about that tea. You want your usual?”

MJ exhales gratefully. “Yes, please.”

Ten minutes later, May has her wrapped in a blanket with a mug of lemon ginger tea in her hands. They talk about lighter subjects—their latest TV show binges, May’s charity event planning, MJ’s pending college applications.

It’s nice, this gentle state of _being_ alongside another person. May’s not an expert on MJ’s inner thoughts, her needs, her desires. But she’s listening, she’s trying, she’s caring. And MJ knows, intrinsically, that she is supported and loved. 

\---

Unsurprisingly, Peter is home nearly thirty minutes later than he’d promised. MJ’s fine with it. The extra time spent with May has been quietly instructive. 

May says some cheesy and slightly embarrassing line about leaving the two of them to their Netflix and banishes herself to her bedroom. MJ and Peter sit on their usual sides of the couch, and it should feel commonplace, but the looming shadow of the other night turns the clock in MJ’s mind back seven months, like she’s once again just an awkward girl with a crush who doesn’t really know the boy in front of her. 

And maybe she really doesn’t, yet. But she knows she loves him. Knows she wants to keep learning.

“Hey.” She says.

“Hey, MJ.” He smiles softly.

“So I wanted to say that I’m sorry about the other night.”

“You— _you’re_ sorry? MJ, please, I’m the one who should be—”

“No, Peter.” She’ll do anything to heal the guilt written across his face. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, okay? I shouldn’t have left. I just…I panicked.” She shrugs and looks down. “You know I’m not always great with feelings, and I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you have your thoughts to yourself, but I don’t think I was.”

She pauses to catch her breath, and he jumps in. “It’s okay, MJ. Really. I told you to leave, you know?”

“You did, but I kind of pushed you in that direction, and I just…I screwed up, Peter. I shouldn’t have left. So, yes, I am sorry.”

His face constricts like he’s torn between accepting the apology and arguing it was unnecessary. To MJ’s relief, he chooses the former. 

“It’s okay.” He says softly. “Really, it’s okay. But thank you for that.” He reaches for her hand, and she threads her fingers through his.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

He nods. “Thanks. I don’t right now, but. Thanks.”

They sit back for a minute, leaning on each other until their breath synchronizes. She thinks back to Thursday night; to his pale, unreadable expression and his static stance. It still scares her.

But she knows more now than she did then.

“Peter?”

“Mm?”

She sits up and faces him. Channels May Reilly Parker.

“I want to be there for you for _all_ of this. Even if you don’t want to talk, I’ll be here from now on. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” She takes his other hand. “You are _not_ alone in any of this. Okay?”

“Okay, MJ.” He smiles. “Thanks.”

She leans her forehead against his. “I love you, Peter.”

“I know.” He shuts his eyes. “I love you, too.” 

It’s that _knowing_ that settles her restless soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3 I'd love to know what you thought! 
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr if you want! @friendofspidermannedleeds


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